A Baker's Dozen
by GertieTheHippo
Summary: During the 4 years Ainsley has been living in NYC, she has met and befriended Olivia Benson and her team and put together a half decent bakery. After one particularly disorganized morning,however, she destroys a 1200 suit - meeting someone new in the process. Little does she know she'll be seeing him sooner than anticipated when an old friend discloses a terrible crime.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey all! This is the first chapter, so it's a bit longer than what you would normally see. I also have this story up on AO3, but I had a few requests to have it over here to. I hope it's enjoyed! Obviously I'm a bit of a review whore, so let me know what you think :) I have the first nine chapters written. I'll decide in a bit whether I want to throw them all up here right away or space them out.**

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For the first time in a good long while, nothing about what should have been a typical Thursday morning for Ainsley May Reyes was all that typical. First, the alarm she had on her phone was accidentally set for 4pm rather than am. So instead of waking up with plenty of time to shower, eat, and mentally prep for the day to come, she was forced to use dry shampoo on her hair (which hadn't been washed in three days), scarf down half of a leftover banana nut muffin, and panic through the entire bus ride to the bakery.

Not only was she going to have to open later than normal, but she also had to deal with the Wyrzkowski Order. Four hundred cupcakes, four types of cakes, and two types of icing in just three days. Ainsley tried to tally who she was going to have to call in and offer overtime. Lettie was out – the girl couldn't pipe a straight line to save her grandmother and God help her should she be asked for sugar lace. Beth was worthless for efficiency; it should not take someone half an hour to make thirty rosettes. It would have to be Bennett. She was only eighteen, but damn if the girl couldn't make a royal icing to rival Ainsley's own.

As the bus shuddered to a sudden stop, Ainsley made her way down the shallow steps. Nearly losing her three bags to the streets, she stepped over the curb and made her way down the sidewalk. It may not have been a long walk, but after the morning she had had so far, Ainsley was ready to get to the bakery, get the kitchen prepped, and start working.

"G'morning Miss Annie!" Ainsley glanced up toward the voice calling out and grinned. Harry had been staked out on this sidewalk since Ainsley had first arrived in New York four years previous. He was homeless and not all together upstairs if Ainsley had to take a guess…but he was sweet and helpful and

never failed to offer assistance.

"Hey Harry, how're you today?" She stopped and set down two of her bags. Harry stood from his beat up lawn chair and ran a hand through his messed hair. He would have been rather handsome, Ainsley thought, had it not been for the obvious effects from years of alcohol and drug abuse.

"Oh just d-d-dandy, Miss Annie, y'all need any h-h-help with those? They look r-r-real h-heavy and you're lookin' r-real tired this morning." Ainsley sighed and flung her long red hair over one shoulder. Harry never beat around the bush.

"That would be lovely, thanks Harry." He quickly picked up the two bags that had been on the ground and waited to follow. It didn't always work out, but Ainsley tried to let Harry help her out whenever possible. He would let her pay him for his services in breakfasts and lunches. She had once tried offering money, but he had protested vehemently.

"Oh n-no Miss Annie, that's too much…I'd j-j-just end up somewhere I shouldn't be with all that – I d-d-don't wanna be in trouble n-no more." She never offered cash again.

Upon arriving at the bakery, Ainsley was pleased to see Carmina had already come downstairs from the small apartment above the shop. If she had been thinking, Ainsley would have called the young woman who was renting the space to let her know she was late. With a soft push. Ainsley entered the cozy bakery with Harry on her heels.

"Carmina? Sorry I'm late!" she called out into the shop.

"In the kitchen!" a heavily accented voice replied from the back.

Ainsley turned toward Harry who was already opening up the curtains to let in the early morning sun. "You want to sit down, Harry? I'll get you some breakfast." She offered up a grin as he turned and made his way to a small corner table.

"And some h-ot cocoa?" he asked, a blush rising to his cheeks. Ainsley knew how much he hated out right asking for anything extra.

"Of course!"

She left the younger man behind as she made her way into the kitchen where Carmina was pulling a fresh tray of various types of muffins from one industrial oven and inserting loaves of different breads into the second.

"Buenos Dias Boss Lady!" Carmina greeted her, smiling widely. "A little late this morning, are we?"

"God, Carrie…it's been a mess. I may have to run up to your apartment after Lettie gets here to use your shower. Would you mind?" Carmina agreed readily as Ainsley herself started making a breakfast of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and toast for Harry.

"Hey, throw a couple of those banana chocolate chip muffins in a to-go box for Harry, would you?" She plated up the breakfast and poured a glass of orange use before tucking the full box of muffins under one arm and carrying the whole lot out to the main room.

"Can I g-g-get it all in a b-box, Miss Annie? I g-got to g-g-o check on Perry and I d-don't want h-him to think I forg-got him." Ainsley frowned but nodded. Harry always spoke about Perry, but the name was all he ever gave. He never offered up more information, and Ainsley knew better than to ask.

She handed all of his food, stuffed into two boxes, over to Harry and walked him to the door. "Now Harry, Saturday's going to be a really busy day here, so remember. You can help us clean up after 10. Not before then, okay?" She appreciated Harry's hard work, but she couldn't have him alone in the shop. He quickly agreed and headed out, beaming all the while.

Ainsley smiled too and then sighed. She pulled her hair up into a messy bun, grabbed a hair net, and headed back into the kitchen. "All right, Carrie, where are we at?"

* * *

Ainsley stretched as she set down the blow dryer and looked in the mirror. It was always weird using someone else's products; you never knew how your own hair would react. This, however, wasn't too bad…a little frizzy maybe, but nothing to write home over. She just felt lucky Carrie lived up here and was so willing to let her landlady use her bathroom.

Ainsley frowned at her bag and swore. She had thought she had grabbed her go bag with an extra set of clothes when in all actuality, she had snagged a bag of dirty aprons she had forgotten to wash. Glancing over at Carrie's closet, Ainsley debated her options. If she was just spending the day in the back kitchen and not dealing with people, she would have hands down just put on her janky pair of leggings and SOA t-shirt again. Alas, hiding in the kitchen was not on the docket for the day. She had two meetings and was planning on visiting Olivia that day, so it looked like borrowing from Carrie was going to have to be okay.

With a sigh, she made for the dresser while stripping the towel. Carrie wouldn't mind, but Ainsley wasn't overly fond of Carrie's wardrobe. At twenty-six, Ainsley was a good seven years senior. Luckily, the only real difference apart from inherent stylistic choices was that Ainsley was a solid cup size larger that Carrie. Oh well, as long as she picked something with a higher neckline and wasn't a button up, no one would be any the wiser.

Satisfied that the chosen red skirt wouldn't be considered too short, Ainsley rifled through the extensive collection of shoes and settled on a pair of brown booties. She wouldn't be in the kitchen much, so she could afford to treat herself. No one she knew had a shoe selection like Carmina Magdelena Moralez. She finally pulled on a beige and brown sweater set before tying her hair into a thick braid over one shoulder.

Ainsley did her best to tidy up before heading back downstairs. She glanced at her phone and grinned. It was only just past 7am. Lettie, like the sweet angel she was, had been able to come in almost two hours early to help Carrie while Ainsley got her life together. People could say what they wanted about the youth of today, but God help anyone who tried to tell Ainsley May Reyes her girls weren't the hardest working or most reliable employees in New York. Even Bennett who was just eighteen and a high school dropout was someone Ainsley had come to rely on in even the stickiest of situations.

She shuddered thinking about the Ellis/Wyndstrom Reception of 2010. Who could have imagined a little sixteen year old kid with three days on the job as cashier would have been willing to break into her place of employment, hotwire a neighbor's car, and drive two hours to a country club in upstate New York all because her moron of a boss forgot to bring the designated service uniforms ordered by the bride's anal retentive mother from Hell? Not Ainsley, that's for sure. Luckily, the neighbor was blind and hadn't driven in sixteen years and so was completely ignorant of what had transpired.

Upon reaching the main landing, Ainsley locked the door up to Carrie's flat behind her and strode into the kitchen. "Lettie, you are a true gift from God. The next time you want a day off, you've got it ahead of everyone else," she gushed upon seeing the young college grad kneading what appeared to be a sweet sourdough.

Lettie laughed and gave a shrug. "No problemo, Boss Lady. Remember that when I ask for the day before Thanksgiving off."

"I stand corrected," Ainsley chuckled. "You are Satan in a Sunday dress."

"So my mother always told me," she replied with a smirk. "Carrie's got your box of goodies for the Detective and her friends up front."

"Great thanks; I should be back around three."

"Oh, and Ima called out…lice…all three kids. Outbreak at the school, I think." Lettie shuddered.

"Oh Hell no…okay. I'll call her. She is not returning here until her whole family and house checks out as clean. I'll call someone." Ainsley copied Lettie's shudder. "Blegh! Anything else? Who did we call in?"

"Kimmi just got back from seeing her family in Japan, so she'll be in at two."

"Perfect. Where would I be without you guys?"

"Probably married to Harry and living in a box," the younger woman giggled. Ainsley shot her a playful look and swatted her arm.

"You be nice; he's a sweetheart and you know it."

"Yeah yeah, now go on Boss Lady. Let me work in peace, will you?" Ainsley shook her head and moved into the main shop where Carrie was helping a short line of customers.

"You lookin' hella sexy, Boss Lady!" she cried, handing over a box of muffins to the customer before her. Ainsley rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Thank you Carrie for the loan of clothing I didn't bother to ask for. I'll get them back clean." She grabbed the large box of assorted muffins, rolls, bagels, and spreads before slipping on her sunglasses.

"I've got that final meet before Saturday with the Wyrzkowskis today at 1. Before that I'm heading over to the Precinct, and I'm meeting an old friend for lunch. Call me if anything goes horribly awry!"

"Yes, Maam!"

With one last wave, Ainsley weaved her way past the short line and through the tables filled with a scattering of customers to the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Here's the second chapter right away :) I hope you all like it as we meet everyone's favorite broadway star turned SVU ADA!**

* * *

She should just forego the coffee. They had their own machine at the Precinct anyway, and the detectives wouldn't hold it against her. But one thought of that piece of crap machine and the swill it produced was enough to make Ainsley cringe. No, she could handle standing in line for a few minutes at a Starbucks to bring her friends some decent coffee.

She shifted the large box in her arms to pull out her phone. 8am. They shouldn't be too busy yet. After a few more minutes of listening to the orders being made ahead of her and trying to ignore the intense voice speaking rapidly in Spanish behind her, Ainsley reached the counter and smiled. She gave the traditional orders favorited by the detectives at SVU, mentally checking off their names: Olivia, John, Finn, Amanda, Nick, and Captain Cragen. Perfect. She stepped to the side after paying to wait for her drinks.

She allowed herself to lean against the far counter as she shifted her weight from side to side. Glancing out the large windows, she grinned at the gorgeous weather. If every day of the year could be 65 and sunny, she would be one happy camper. She heard her order called out, so she took the carrier and turned toward the entrance.

Suddenly, as she swiped her gaze across the street, she felt as if a bucket of cold water was dumped down her back. No, it couldn't be. She squinted and tried to crane her neck to see over the crowds, but before she could double check what she had seen, a city bus rushed past and the flash from moments ago was gone. She swallowed and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. No one was there. No one was watching her.

She took a firmer grasp on her box of food, clutched her carrier of coffees to her chest, turned, and promptly smashed front first into the man who had been behind her. For a moment the world seemed to slow down around her as she watched what was about to happen, unable to stop it. Five large cups of various coffees proceeded to fly out of their carrier - three of them splashing all down the front of what appeared to be a very expensive three piece suit, complete with stylish tie and coordinating pocket square.

Before she could react, Ainsley's senses were flooded with the scent of fresh coffee and the sounds of the man muttering in Spanish, setting his briefcase down next to her box of treats. She snapped herself from her own mortification and immediately grabbed a towel off the counter, her box of food forgotten on a table nearby.

"Oh my God!" she cried, rushing forward to try desperately wiping the man's suit. "Oh my God; Sir, I am so sorry!" She couldn't stand the idea of meeting his eyes so she decided to keep her face, which must have been beet red, fixated on his suit and the rapidly spreading coffee stain.

He had clearly grabbed a second towel and was patting his suit down as well, obviously trying to move Ainsley away. Oh God, how close was she to his crotch. It was then that Ainsley felt the utmost desire to lay down and die. Someone would have to remove her corpse from the Starbucks, tell the girls at the shop it was closed indefinitely, and notify Olivia to explain, "No, there was no foul play – just the absolute mortification and death of a pathetic twenty something. No, there will be no need to mourn; best forget everything."

Finally, the man in the (now ruined) suit was able to force Ainsley from her crouched position and guide her to a side table where he pushed her into a seat.

"I can't believe I did that…I'm so so sorry." She was looking down at her hands, still unwilling to look up at him.

"It's perfectly fine, I promise. Things happen – even things like spilling coffee on a $1,200 suit." At that, Ainsley whipped her head up in horror. $1,200? As she continued to stare, she noted the small smirk of amusement present on the man's face. Was he kidding? She honestly couldn't tell. Who was this guy?

"I will absolutely pay to have it dry cleaned," she promised, standing up. She didn't like him looming over her, but in this position she was satisfied being only an inch or two shorter than him. She watched as he gave her a once over, clearly trying to decide if she could, in fact, afford to pay for a non-budgeted dry cleaning bill. Ainsley took this opportunity to give him a glance as well.

As she had already noticed, the man was only slightly taller than her with an average build. It was strange though. The way he wore that suit, and damn was that (previously) a great look and the way he carried himself made him seem so much more impressive. He had dark hair and even darker eyes with thick lashes Ainsley only ever noticed on children. He had to have been at least forty, but then again, Ainsley had never been good at determining ages. He was still smirking at her when she realized she had been looking at him far longer than he had been looking at her.

"Sorry, yeah. Dry cleaning…I'm absolutely good for it," Ainsley assured him while handing over the towel she was still clutching to her chest.

"Unnecessary," he replied with a shake of his head. He patted down his suit a few more times before deciding to give up. He took another look at her and raised an eyebrow. "Miss, you might want to sit down. You're looking like you're about to stroke out on me."

He put one hand on her shoulder and gently forced her back into the seat. She ignored his comment and sighed. "You're not burned are you? If you are, I'll cover any medical expenses as well, but please don't have me arrested for assault. It was an accident. The worst accident of my life, but still an accident. And honest, I will take care of the dry cleaning. Please…crap I'm sorry. I must sound like an absolute lunatic – and moron. That too."

Ainsley took a deep breath and released a sigh as the man sat down across from her. "And I said it's not necessary. It's a suit; I've got another at work. No harm, no foul."

Ainsley raised one eyebrow and quirked one side of her mouth. "I'm sorry, you just happen to have second $1200 ensemble waiting for you at work on the off chance some moron destroys the first in a Starbucks?"

He smirked again. "Well it could have been a Panera, and the second is $1,700…I got a raise.

Ainsley released an incredibly undignified snort and covered her eyes with one hand. "Of course, my mistake," she laughed.

"There you go, not such a big deal, right?" he asked while ducking down to see beneath her fingers. She made a face, but shook her head.

"I don't care what you say though, I insist you send me the dry cleaning bill. Otherwise I'll have to search you out and bother you until you give it up. Please?" Ainsley gave him a hopeful look. H raised both eyebrows, but finally nodded.

"If it will bring you some semblance of peace…"

"It will. Here." She could feel the amusement rolling off the man in waves as she dug into her bag for one of her cards. "For Pete's sake –" she muttered. "Here we go."

She handed over her card and shivered when his fingers brushed lightly over her own.

"Ainsley May Reyes – Mariani's Bakery."

"That me. The address and phone number are on the back. Just send me the bill there and I'll pay you back. That okay?"

He gave a vague nod, still looking at the card. She was suddenly very self-conscious. By the man's appearance, he was probably a freaking connoisseur of business cards.

"Uhh, it's not too fancy, but it –"

"What? No, sorry, but," he started, looking up once more. "Forgive me, but you don't exactly look like a Reyes.

Ainsley blushed again. "Oh, uh no. I wouldn't. My stepdad adopted me when I was fourteen and I took his name. So here I am!" His smile turned to another smirk before he nodded and dug into his own jacket pocket.

"Well Ainsley May Reyes, I'll be in touch." He handed her a card, shook her hand once before grabbing his briefcase, and headed out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!**

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Well hopefully that guy actually does send me the bill, Ainsley thought to herself. She lamented the fact that she had been so frazzled by the encounter that she had lost his card almost immediately after he left. She hadn't even managed to read his name before the door to the coffee shop had opened, letting in a rush of wind. The card flew from her fingers, never to be recovered. One day Ainsley would learn not to be so clumsy, but this was not that day.

When she arrived at the Precinct, Ainsley had watched the small crowd of detectives and officers crowd around her offerings. She couldn't help but smile. She had always delighted in sharing with others - even if it did take a chunk out of her time and effort. Only Amanda Rollins had hung back; she had learned pretty quickly to wait for the wolves to disperse. Whatever was left would be just as good as whatever had been grabbed first. Ainsley knew Amanda wasn't picky.

She eyed the detective who was checking her phone for messages and cleared her throat. Amanda looked up and raised her eyebrows. "Something on your mind, Sweetie?" Ainsley offered a small smile. She always did enjoy Amanda's Southern quirks - endearments being the main ones.

"I just had a question about something...hypothetical, I mean," Ainsley replied, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been prone to an easy blush, and what with her deep red hair, it certainly had an effect on her self-image.

"Hypothetical, huh?" Amanda smirked and Ainsley rolled her eyes. Both women knew that hypothetical generally meant the exact opposite. Amanda was discreet though, and Ainsley hoped she could trust the other woman to keep the conversation to herself.

"Yeah. Umm...Let's say - hypothetically of course -" She pulled subconsciously at her braid.

"Of course," Amanda nodded dramatically.

"Shut up," Ainsley replied giving a shove. Amanda laughed and motioned for her to continue. "Let's say a person gets a restraining order against someone in one state and then moves away to another -" Ainsley bit her cheek as Amanda straightened and leaned in, suddenly much more interested in the conversation at hand. "Would that restraining order still be valid, or would the person need to apply for a new one?"

After a few moments pause, Amanda released sigh. "Restraining Order, huh?"

Ainsley nodded and mindlessly moved from tugging her braid to wrapping and unwrapping it around her fist. She could see Amanda eyeing the bothersome habit, concern etched on her face.

"First off, are you safe? Has something happened, because you've been in Manhattan for what? Four years now?" Ainsley nodded again but kept her eyes fixed downward. "Okay, so again, is there something I should know about?"

At that, Ainsley shot her eyes up to meet Amanda's. "Absolutely not, honest. I'm fine; everything's fine." Amanda looked unconvinced.

"I swear," Ainsley urged. "Look, this morning, I thought - I thought I saw something. It was just a flash, and then he was gone. I'm sure it was nothing. It just got me wondering is all."

"Is this the first 'flash' of something that's worried you?" Ainsley's pause was answer enough. "How many times?" Amanda pressed.

"This would be number four," she admitted softly. When she said it out loud, Ainsley could sense that maybe this was a bigger deal than she had initially believed. Her mind flashed to the three other times in the past two months - once at the grocery store on a Saturday morning, once out shopping with a few of the girls from the bakery, and once (most concernedly) outside her apartment at ten at night.

Amanda clenched her teeth and put one hand on Ainsley's shoulder. "Okay, well most Orders are going to transfer on, but you do need to register the original in the new state. Have you done that?"

Ainsley shook her head.

"Okay, we'll get that taken care of...maybe we can meet up for breakfast tomorrow?"

"I can do that," Ainsley replied gratefully. "Can I trust you to keep this between the two of us? I just - I don't want anyone to worry, you know?"

Amanda tilted her head and sighed. "No one knows? Not even Liv?"

Ainsley shook her head. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

"Okay, but seriously, Ainsley," she urged. "You need to tell me if this guy shows up or even if you have a bad feeling. Our instincts on stuff like this - we can usually trust those. Got it?"

"I got it. Thanks," Ainsley replied with a grateful smile as Amanda leaned in to hug her shoulders. "Hey, I've got to go. I'm meeting an old friend from home for lunch. She's in New York for a book signing thing."

"Cool, I'll text you about tomorrow; bring that original Order okay!" Ainsley waved over her shoulder and moved toward the door. It was amazing how much better she felt just after speaking with Amanda. Now she could get to the good part of her day. Lunch with Jocelyn. She cringed, however, remembering the book for which Jocelyn was currently making millions. People really do change...

* * *

"I'm sorry! I could not make it past the third chapter," Ainsley cried as she covered her cheeks which were growing redder by the second. Jocelyn Paley, someone Ainsley had known since middle school and had just recently become a worldwide bestselling author only laughed. "I'm serious! All I could picture while reading was skinny little eleven year old you with braces and - and - well you know what goes on in that book. Shit, girl."

"It's okay," Jocelyn replied, reaching across the table to tug on Ainsley's braid. It was a leftover habit of hers from when they were kids and trying to get one another's attention during class. "I get it. It's an intense book." She flipped her own blonde hair over one shoulder and took another bite of her lunch.

"That's one word for it," Ainsley laughed, shoveling more lasagna into her own mouth. A graceful eater, she was not. It made whatever dates she did happen to go on really interesting. There was a strict "No Mexican/No Italian" rule in effect after one particularly disastrous blind date with a guy who had worked with Finn once upon a time in Narcotics.

"Anyway, I hear you're doing an interview tonight? Adam "What's his nuts"..."

"Cain, you loser." Jocelyn rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. You excited?" Ainsley prompted. The two women had already spent two hours catching up after not seeing one another for almost five years and were now getting into Jocelyn's recent successes.

"I am!" she laughed. "He's funny and not bad looking; it should be fun. We're going to dinner afterwards." Jocelyn shot Ainsley a wink, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do…"

"Oh shut up, it's going to be fun." Jocelyn laughed again and continued talking about other high profile people she had met since her book had come out. Ainsley had to admit, even she was impressed by some of the names. She just wished she could have handled reading it. There was something unsettling, however, in reading about a good friend's sexual fantasies about being dominated in some of the most gratuitous ways you could imagine. No, some things were better left unimagined.

After another hour of catching up and promising to get together at least once more before Jocelyn moved on with her book tour, the two friends parted ways. Ainsley waved good-bye before signaling for a cab. She had a meeting in less than an hour with the mother and mother-in-law for a reception only a few days away. As she slid into the cab, Ainsley groaned. She would rather force herself through Jocelyn's book than have to deal with what was coming with these two women. Sadly, that wasn't an option. She gritted her teeth and gave the driver directions before settling into her seat, the scent of stale cigarettes and body odor filling her senses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading; enjoy the new chapter :)**

* * *

The only thing Ainsley hated about her apartment was the building buzzer.

She didn't mind that she was on the thirteenth floor; there were two elevators plus a freight to make up for it. It didn't bother her that two of her neighbors were absolute dude-bros who had been hitting on her for the past four years; the fourth neighbor Jen was always up for an evening of mocking the guys at either end of the hall. She couldn't even be upset about her gargoyle of a landlady; the elderly Mrs. Freedmont, after all, never failed to take her side when Ainsley complained about the couple upstairs. Everyone knew Kevin and Lisa Johannes and what a couple of psychos they were. At least they weren't on Ainsley's floor.

That buzzer though...it was enough to cause a jump scare from even the most devoted of horror fans (which Ainsley most assuredly was not.) So when that freaking buzzer went off half a dozen times in rapid succession, it was no surprise she panicked in a way that had her falling out of bed and crashing to the ground.

After orienting herself to what was happening and where she was, Ainsley reached up to grab her glasses and her phone from her nightstand. Seeing the time, she clenched her teeth in anger. 1.47am.

"If someone isn't either dead or dying, they're about to be…" she muttered. Ainsley fought her way out of the mess that was her bed sheets and marched through her apartment - not bothering to put on any pants. They were hardly a concern when her REM sleep had just been so violently interrupted.

Aggressively pressing the button on the intercom, she growled. "What?"

"Annie? It's Jocelyn…" Ainsley froze at the sound of her friends quavering voice. Was she crying?

"Joc - what's going on? Hold on, I'll buzz you up."

As Ainsley waited for Jocelyn to make her way up what suddenly seemed like an infinite number of floors to her apartment, her mind started to wander. She had watched Jocelyn give an amazing, albeit a bit handsy interview on Adam Cain's show. She had seemed fine then - elated even. Had something happened after the show? Ainsley remembered that Cain was going to take Jocelyn to dinner. Maybe he was mean to her? Maybe he didn't like her book at all and took the chance to let Jocelyn know. Dick.

Ainsley prepped herself to listen to Jocelyn smack talk the famous talk show host when she heard frantic knocking at her door.

She pulled open the front door and immediately stepped aside when Jocelyn pushed her way through. Ainsley stumbled, taken aback by the sudden movement. She moved to close the door behind her friend and turned to face her. "Joc Sweetie, what's going -"

Ainsley froze. She felt her eyes grow wide and her stomach drop. Aside from Jocelyn's red eyes and lightly torn clothing, there was a thick, dark red mark wrapping its way around her otherwise pale neck. Ainsley glanced at the floor by her front closet where a belt from one of her jackets had fallen; it was very nearly the same width. She turned her gaze back to Jocelyn and tried to slow her breathing.

"Joc. What - what happened?" Ainsley moved toward her friend who was now looking at the floor, confusion etched on her face. "Come on, let's sit," she urged softly.

Jocelyn nodded and allowed Ainsley to lead them both to the sofa where Ainsley sat across from her on the coffee table.

"Joc," Ainsley started again. She didn't want to push Jocelyn; she looked on the edge of shock if she wasn't there already.

"He - uhh, he wouldn't stop," Jocelyn whispered, finally looking up and meeting Ainsley's eyes. Ainsley nodded and squeezed Jocelyn's hand.

"Okay...yeah, okay. Who wouldn't stop?" Ainsley had a pretty good idea about whom Jocelyn was speaking. She was, after all wearing the same outfit she had worn for her interview. But she needed to say the name.

"He - God, Annie...I was so scared. He kept pulling it tighter and tighter. It hurt so bad."

Ainsley saw the tears forming in Jocelyn's eyes and nodded. "Okay, you're okay here with me," she assured her. "But Joc Sweetie, I need you to tell me who did this. Can you tell me who he was?"

Both women were quiet as Jocelyn tried to hold herself together. Finally, Jocelyn lightly shook her head and sighed. "Adam Cain...God he was so nice at dinner - and funny and charming and…" She cut off and Ainsley pulled Jocelyn in for a hug.

"Come on," she murmured. "I'll drive you to the hospital -"

Jocelyn pushed away from Ainsley and looked genuinely confused. "What? Why?"

Ainsley furrowed her brow and bit her lip. "You're hurt," she replied, looking again at the marks on Jocelyn's neck. "I mean, that could be really serious. We need to get that checked out."

Jocelyn only continued looking confused. "What?"

"You've seen your neck right?"

She put one hand to her neck and winced before rising to her feet and making her way toward the entryway mirror a few feet away. Ainsley shook her head. How had Jocelyn not noticed…

What the fuck?

Ainsley's gaze went to the dark red splotch that had appeared on her sofa. Glancing over her shoulder toward her friend, she felt bile rising up through her throat and into her mouth. There was a similar red splotch on the back of Jocelyn's skirt. Ainsley forced the sick back down with a grimace and quickly moved to cover the spot on the couch with a pillow. She didn't want Jocelyn seeing the bit of blood left behind after standing up.

While Jocelyn fixated on her neck wounds, Ainsley found a longer jacket in her front closet and draped it around her friend, wanting to cover the back of the skirt. Jocelyn jumped forward, caught off guard by the sudden contact.

"Sorry!" Ainsley stepped back as Jocelyn shrugged the coat on and shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry; I'm fine." Ainsley hesitated before opening the front door and guiding Jocelyn out into the hallway as quietly as possible. This was going to be a hell of a night, and Ainsley didn't need anyone hearing them and coming out to investigate. Investigate...she would call Olivia when they got to the hospital. Ainsley had no clue if Jocelyn even wanted the police involved, but she could decide that later. For now, all Ainsley knew was that her friend had been hurt, and even though Jocelyn wouldn't admit it...Ainsley knew it was her own fault.

As the pair sat in made it to the street and waited for a cab, it took Ainsley every ounce of willpower she had not to completely lose her mind to panic. Ainsley's guilt didn't matter...if Jocelyn could keep it together, Ainsley could damn well do the same. For now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I'm pretty far ahead in my writing, so here's another chapter :)**

* * *

It felt strange that though she was nearly twenty-seven, Ainsley had never felt more like a child. Once when she was seven, she had gotten separated from her parents at the State Fair."The Great Minnesota Get Together" was one of the largest and most well attended state fairs in the country, so to lose yourself was no small thing. She had wandered terrified for close to an hour before she gathered the courage to approach someone: another family with four kids of their own. They had immediately contacted fair employees and Ainsley was back with her parents within the two hours.

It was that feeling of panic and rush of fear, Ainsley was experiencing now. She had lost control of everything. Though she was friends with SVU detectives, never in a thousand years had she imagined, she would require their services - even for a friend.

Ainsley suddenly looked up from where she was standing in the doorway when she heard her name ring through the crowded hallway.

"Olivia!" Ainsley worked to push past a couple of patients to get to the two detectives heading her way. Before either Olivia or Amanda could say anything, Ainsley was flinging herself in for a hug. She could feel tears once more threatening to break free. Now that police were involved and she was out of sight of Jocelyn, Ainsley was losing the drive to stay strong.

"It's okay," Olivia soothed. "We're going to figure all of this out."

"Are you holding up okay though?" Amanda asked softly. Ainsley briefly wondered why the two women were paired together instead of with their typical respective partners. She shook the thought from her mind as she continued to allow Olivia to hold her.

"It's my fault," Ainsley finally murmured. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly as the shame washed over her, a cold rush pushing through her chest.

"That's ridiculous," Amanda assured her.

Olivia stepped back but kept her hands on Ainsley's shoulders. "Why would you even think that? You're doing everything just right, you know that."

Ainsley only shook her head and sniffed. "No - I don't know, it's just...I just saw her earlier. You know, and I - I don't know." She ran one hand through her messed hair, swearing as her fingers caught in a snarl.

"I think we all know that Jocelyn won't see it that way." Olivia promised.

"She told me not to call you, but I had to. She needs to talk to you, right? And explain what happened? I don't think I can...it has to be her?" Ainsley knew she sounded hysterical; she could hear the words rushing from her mouth like a flood.

"You did the right thing. We'll talk with her," Amanda assured her, ushering her toward the area where Jocelyn was waiting. "It'll be okay."

The next hour went by in a blur. Ainsley could barely focus on anything other than the horrific welt around her friend's throat and her clear discomfort with the rape kit. Ainsley knew Jocelyn didn't want it, so she couldn't help but feel more than a little pissed on her behalf at Amanda's scare tactics. Was that the typical way detectives spoke to victims? Ainsley sincerely hoped not. It was a strange thing to see her friends actually on the job rather than scarfing down her baked goods at the precinct.

Finally, Jocelyn succeeded in convincing Ainsley to go home. The detectives were going to bring her back to her apartment. Ainsley hoped the two women would be able to convince her friend to press charges, because at this point, Jocelyn was adamant that wasn't going to happen. She didn't want to ruin her writing career or her reputation going against such a high profile man like Adam Cain. Plus there was the minor problem that Jocelyn wasn't even convinced she was raped...she had gone to his apartment with the intent of sex. She had wanted it rough. She admitted to even slipping him her underwear at dinner.

None of that mattered, at least not to Ainsley or the detectives. Ainsley yawned and quickly pulled Amanda aside as she walked to the main entrance.

"What's up, Sweetie?" Amanda asked while rubbing Ainsley's back gently.

"I didn't want to mention it in front of Joc, but when she came over - she sat on my sofa and… well there's some…" Ainsley once more tried to hold in her tears at the memory of the blood on her couch cushions.

Amanda only nodded. "Was there a little blood?" AInsley swallowed and grimaced, but nodded once. Amanda squeezed her hand. I'm going to send someone over from CSU to collect it. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, no problem." Ainsley made for the exit, utterly ready to return home and just lay in her bed. Thankfully she had the day off.

"Ainsley." She looked back to Amanda who was giving her a supportive smile. "We will get this guy...I promise."

Ainsley nodded and turned away. She knew that was not a promise Amanda could make, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same.

* * *

Two days later, Ainsley was in back of shop experimenting with new flavor combinations. One of the aspects that drew her customers in (both regulars and new) was the fact that while Ainsley and her team were always well-stocked with classic favorites, they also made the effort for fresh innovation and new ideas. Kimmi was particularly help when it came to bringing in Asian flavors which always appealed to the foodies who ventured in on occasion.

Today, however, Ainsley was focused on trying to incorporate some citrus flavors without customers feeling like they were drowning in a lime grove. It was a bit of a struggle considering Jocelyn was still at the front and center of her mind. She hadn't heard from her friend since the hospital two days ago. Hopefully they would touch base soon.

"Hey Boss Lady," a voice sang from the doorway. Ainsley looked up and rolled her eyes at Beth whose grin seemed to be rivaling that of the cheshire cat.

"What do you need Beth?" she asked with a quirk of her lips. Beth was one who seemed to thrive on what little drama cropped up in shop, so Ainsley only hoped this wasn't going to be a mini-gossip session.

Beth's grin turned into a smirk while her eyebrows wriggled up and down a few times. "There's someone out front asking for you."

Ainsley stopped stirring the mixture before her and frowned. "What? Why? If this is a complaint, tell them - tell them I died or something...yeah, that's a good excuse. Tell them I'm dead, so they'll have to take their issue and stick it up their -"

"Okay, okay! Calm your drama, Boss Lady," Beth laughed stepping further into the kitchen. "Nothing like that."

Ainsley breathed a sigh of relief and continued working, her gaze focused back on her baking. There was no way she would be able to deal with a customer complaint in any professional capacity right now. "Okay, what do they want then?"

Beth sidled up to her and shot another cheshire like smile.

"No clue, but let me say that he is seriously hot."

Ainsley made a face and snorted. "Okay?"

"No seriously!" Beth assured her. "Like 100%, Grade A Hottie! Like, I've absolutely always been more of a Sons of Anarchy, bad boy, asshole type - you know that. But damn, who knew this whole three-piece suit thing would be such a turn on, because this guy? Yeah...totally doing it for me."

In hindsight, the suit comment probably should have been a clue, but Ainsley was so amused by Beth, she could barely focus beyond the girl in front of her.

She laughed at the dreamy look on the seventeen year old's face and started washing her hands in the sink behind her. Sometimes she forgot how young Beth really was, but it was in moments like this where Ainsley's own age of twenty-six really came back to smack her in the face. "So did Mr. Hottie with a Body say what he wanted?" Ainsley asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

"No, just asked for you," Beth replied as she leaned back on the countertop. She reached forward to tuck back a few stray strands of hair that had escaped Ainsley's mass of red waves beneath the hairnet.

"Get off!" Ainsley chuckled, swatting Beth's hands away.

"No! Now take that stupid ass net off and get out there!" Beth ordered, pushing her boss toward the door which separated the kitchen from the main room. Ainsley shoved her away again.

"Bethany Jean, what do you think is going to happen?" she asked while laughing out loud.

"Well I'm sure I don't know, Ainsley May," Beth replied in a fake (and quite awful) Southern accent as her face shifted into that of a much too innocent child. "I do know, however, that you should climb that man like a tree."

And before Ainsley could respond more than with a deep blush, Beth shoved her through the doorway and into the store front.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading; feel free to leave a review if you feel so inclined! Enjoy :)**

* * *

At first, Ainsley was mildly disoriented when she stumbled into the main area of the bakery. It had reached the portion of the day where the sun was in perfect position to stream through the lightly curtained windows, and it created a stark contrast from the back kitchen where she had been working for the past three hours. As her senses adjusted to the brightness of the midday sun and the loud noises permeating through the open entranceway, Ainsley gave a quick stretch and glanced around.

It was easy to figure out who it was that was there to see her considering there was only one person before her. It wasn't strange for her to see the shop empty. They were sitting between the breakfast and lunch rushes on a damn Tuesday. She seriously doubted she would see a single customer for at least another hour. Glancing around, she briefly wondered where Bennett had run off to. Break maybe?

Finally Ainsley allowed herself a good look at who had come looking for her, and in those moments after realizing exactly who it was, she froze. There in front of her was the man from the coffee shop she had met (or assaulted with hot coffee in more accurate terms) two days previous. His back was to her as he was bent over looking at one of the display cases filled with a variety of fresh muffins that she, Beth, and Bennett had taken from the oven a few hours previous.

Ainsley suppressed a grin, noting that he wore yet another impressively stylish suit. She opened her mouth to greet him but paused. She was going to have to admit she didn't actually know his name despite him giving her his card. How embarrassing…he already probably thought her completely incompetent.

She briefly debated how best to address him. The top contenders were "Hey You," "Sup Bruh," and her stepfather's personal go to of "Hey Asshole!" He alleged it was a great way to establish a humorous sort of brotherhood, but Ainsley wasn't so sure. Thankfully, before she was forced to make any sort of decision, the man stood straight and turned. He shot her a confident sort of smile with a quirk of his lips and headed her way. Ainsley couldn't help but feel like that confidence followed him throughout every aspect of his life, unlike her who cried for three days after getting her first poor review on yelp. She smiled when he appeared to make the conscious effort of standing in just the right position to keep the sun from blinding her.

"Ms. Reyes." She blinked a couple of times and then, to her horror, responded in a manner that would not even have made her top ten list of how to talk to a man. Ainsley decided to attribute her lack of tact to the stress of past couple of days.

"Suit Guy!" And then, if that wasn't mortifying enough, Ainsley reached over and punched him in the arm...like a 12-year-old boy who had no sense of social understanding.  
Ainsley felt herself go red as she continued to hold her fist to the man's bicep. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head in disbelief.

When she willed herself to open them again, she groaned at the smirk and raised eyebrows of "Suit Guy."

"Well," she stated. "Now that I've destroyed whatever credibility as a functioning human being I may have once held, I'm going to go ahead and stick my head in the industrial oven in back. If you would please excuse me -" Ainsley made to turn but halted as the man grabbed her wrist with a chuckle.

"Ms. Reyes, please. You've hardly committed an oven worthy offence...a stern look of incredulity perhaps, but an oven? Let's be realistic."

Ainsley gave a slight smile and glanced down where the man was still lightly grasping her wrist.

"Now...before this goes any farther," he chuckled. "Suit Guy?"

Ainsley groaned and started blushing once more. She didn't think she had blushed this much in front of one guy since Peter - she didn't like to think of Peter though.

"I'm so sorry; you're going to think I'm an absolute moron," she laughed bringing her now free hand up to her face in an effort to hide her embarrassment.

"I'm sensing a theme with you."

Ainsley laughed again. "As you should!" she cried, ushering him toward one of the small tables nearby. They sat and she released a small sigh.

"I lost your card," she admitted with a roll of her eyes.

He raised one eyebrow. "That was fast."

As he set his briefcase down beside the table, he crossed one leg lightly over the other. Ainsley nearly laughed at the sight of his bright blue and green diamond patterned socks. They hardly went with the dark grey suit we was wearing. Then again, Ainsley wouldn't expect to see someone pairing such a flashy pink and gold vest with it either. She very much appreciated the whimsical vibe coming across paired with the class.

The man must have noticed her gaze shifting over his appearance, because he released a small cough. She offered a rueful grin.

"You know I don't think I've ever had a woman lose my number at quite that rate," he added with another smirk.

At that, Ainsley snorted. "What? You go around handing out your business cards to random girls on the street? Interesting tactic - but seriously. Do I get to know your name? Because I am feeling extremely disadvantaged at this point."

He chuckled again and reached out his hand to take hers. "Rafael Barba. And you are?" He shot her a wink, making Ainsley roll her eyes in amusement.

"Haha, very funny - Ainsley May Reyes; it's a pleasure to meet you..again."

"And you."

The two sat across from each other for a few moments of deafening silence before Ainsley raised one eyebrow and offered up a questioning smile. "So how 'bout them Yankees, am I right?"

Rafael...Mr. Barba...she would have to figure out protocol later - he released a bark of laughter and leaned forward.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a shake of his head. "You did tell me to bring you that bill, or were we doing one of those "no you, no you" dances?"

"No absolutely," she assured him. "I just wasn't expecting you so soon...or in person. But obviously that's fine." Ainsley felt herself continue to grin like an idiot, so she bit her bottom lip in an unsuccessful effort to curtail it.

Rafael pulled an envelope out of his briefcase and held it up. Ainsley could see her name written in clear script.

"Oh fantastic!" Ainsley exclaimed while reaching for the envelope. She frowned, however, when at the last minute, Rafael pulled it back to his chest and out of her reach. "Not fantastic?"

He gave another laugh and held the envelope out to her once more. "My apologies, Ms. Reyes. Has anyone ever told you that you fluster quite easily?"

"You know, Mr. Barba," she replied while snatching the envelope from his outstretched hand, "I do recall being accused of such an egregious falsehood on one or two occasions. How about that…"

Ainsley felt herself start to heat up again under his scrutiny and knew she could deny his observation until the cows came home, but he would never believe her. Her face wouldn't allow it. Damn her pasty as hell complexion. Genetics...what a joke.

It certainly didn't help her, however, that his dark eyes were paired with such an intense, self-satisfying smirk. Whatever this guy did for a living, he must drive his co-workers batshit. Before either had the chance to address Ainsley's continued state of unease, a sudden rush of customers began streaming in through the main entrance.

Immediately, Ainsley was on her feet - her gaze shifting between the man still seated before her and the influx of millennials jonesing for a rush of caffeine and some heavy duty carbs.

As if sensing her crisis, Rafael held up both hands in surrender and stood. "I should get going. Court in an hour and apparently, it's noticed when I don't show up."

A lawyer then...that would explain all the suits.

"Right," Ainsley replied with a grin as she smoothed her skirt. She eyed the customers who had put their belongings down at tables and were now lining up, eyeing her expectantly. "And I had better track down my girls to, you know, actually do their jobs."

"And here," Rafael explained, "is my card...again." He held out another of his perfectly printed business cards which Ainsley took into her own hand. If she was grasping it a little tighter than what might be considered normal, Rafael didn't mention it. He was probably under the impression, she would lose it again as soon as he left.

"You can either mail me a check, call, or hey - if you're feeling really adventurous, stop by the office. We'll do lunch."

"Lunch?" Ainsley looked up from the envelope in her hands.

"Mhmm." He was looking at his watch now, apparently not noticing the confusion etched on Ainsley's face. "Lunch. Okay, I've got to run. See you soon, Ms. Reyes."

Ainsley shook off the shock of his invitation and smiled. "And you Mr. Barba." He shot her a final wink and was out the door in the matter of seconds, leaving Ainsley with the group of millennials shouting for assistance and no employees in sight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so fair; it really brightens my day to get those emails! I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Let me know what you guys think.**

* * *

If Ainsley didn't own her own bakery (or if Mariani's ever went belly up), she decided she definitely wanted to become a food vender in Central Park. Not only would she get to be outside, but she would be able to talk to so many more people than just those who came into her shop. Not that she didn't love her customers - of course she did. Sometimes, though, it was painfully obvious her clientele was of a pretty limited variety. Out here in the middle of the city, however, it was a whole other story.

She watched from her spot beneath her favorite large oak tree as a group of kids rushed an ice cream stand, all screaming for their preferred flavors and toppings. They couldn't have been more than ten with the smallest of them maybe as young as six. She looked around and spotted who must have been all of their parents watching from a nearby swing set clearly keeping tabs on the younger kids playing as well. The whole scene made Ainsley smile as she thought on her own childhood.

Ainsley tore his gaze away from the happy families when she heard a bark of laughter followed by shrieks punctuated with giggles. A young couple was splayed out on their own picnic blanket – oblivious to the world around them. The young man was tickling the woman mercilessly, refusing to halt at her commands. It was all rather adorable to Ainsley, and she briefly wondered what joy that sort of relationship could bring to her life. She didn't have time to wonder long as a loud splash broke through the other sounds of the park.

A dog had jumped into the pond apparently aiming to rescue what appeared to be a small stick floating away. She adjusted her sight line and saw a small boy pointing and laughing at the display. She winced, however, as who must have been the boy's father entered the scene with a frown on his face. It wasn't long before the dog returned to shore and the man started hauling both child and pet away. Poor kid…

Suddenly, a cry rang out through scenic display, interrupting her concerns. One of the children from the ice cream adventure had tripped and lost her ice cream cone to the grass beside her and was calling for her father. Ainsley watched as one of the dads rushed to the girl's side and immediately checked her over for injuries while murmuring words of comfort. She couldn't help but smile, her thoughts returning to her own father. While technically Marco was her stepfather, he was the only family she had left and it had really been awhile. Maybe she would call him when she got home.

Shaking her head and releasing a small sigh, Ainsley laid back on her thin blanket and put her sunglasses down over her eyes before checking her phone for the time. Jocelyn was supposed to have met her nearly twenty minutes earlier, but there was still no word. She knew Joc was seeing the detectives again as well as meeting the prosecutor who would be charging Adam Cain for the first time today. She bit her cheek and rubbed her head. Hopefully the lawyer was a decent person; Ainsley didn't want someone who would make Joc feel worse about herself…

"What an asshole!"

Then again, maybe not…

Ainsley tilted her head up as Jocelyn strode toward her, maneuvering past the kids still running around with their ice creams held precariously in their sticky hands. Before she had the chance to offer up the empty space beside her, Joc laid herself down next to Ainsley and kicked off her heels. Ainsley took her hand gently and squeezed.

"Who's an asshole?" Both women turned to their sides to face each other. Ainsley realized immediately how intimate they both must look – holding hands, talking in low voices. How was anyone to know the conversation at hand had nothing to do with love and everything to do with the shittiness of humanity?

"The lawyer! Jesus Christ, Annie, I swear the guy was being a dick just because he could!"

Ainsley squeezed her friend's hand again and offered a sympathetic smile.

"You should have heard the things he asked me, Annie…" Jocelyn murmured, shaking her head. "And then he acted so condescending when my answers weren't to his liking – seriously! What the Hell?"

Sighing, Ainsley gave a nod and another soft smile. "I know you don't want to hear this, honest I do, but he has to ask you those questions. And it's only going to be more intense when this all goes to trial. You know that, right?" She paused to make sure Jocelyn wasn't going to get angry with her too. When she only rolled onto her back and sat up, Ainsley joined her and continued.

"I mean this guy's on your side. Cain's lawyer? He's going to be the real asshole – Peter's was and that was just some toolbag public defender. Your guy is just trying to prepare you for what's coming, right?"

She watched as Jocelyn silently grabbed for one of the bottles of water in Ainsley's bag. She took a few gulps before turning to finally return Ainsley's stare.

"He's still a dick though," she finally muttered seriously.

Ainsley released a snort. "A real douchenozzle?"

Jocelyn laughed and started digging through the food items Ainsley had packed. "The douchiest that ever nozzled!"

At that, Ainsley was back on the ground trying to contain her own laughter. "What the Hell does that even mean you loser!" she cried, kneeing Jocelyn in the hip.

"Exactly what it sounds like," came the proud reply.

"Can you please use that on the stand?" Ainsley begged. "About Cain obviously, not your lawyer."

"Something tells me my lawyer wouldn't be thrilled with my going that direction," Jocelyn argued. "Though why don't you try it and I'll watch for his reaction. Something might as well make me smile as this Hell moves forward."

At that Ainsley paused and sat up, straightening her top that had become twisted around her side. Jocelyn's words had caught in her head, and she gave a look of confusion. "I'm sorry what do you mean me try it? When am I talking to Cain? When is –"

Jocelyn cut her off with a guilty look. "That's the thing…he wants to meet you," she admitted. Ainsley watched her friend crack her knuckles nervously.

"Who?"

"The lawyer – my lawyer, I mean he's not mine; he's the State's, but you know it's me starting this whole shitshow so yeah. My lawyer."

Ainsley frowned and clenched her teeth. She didn't like courtrooms; she didn't like lawyers; and she really didn't like being ordered to speak to lawyers in courtrooms.

"I know what you're thinking Annie, and I get it. You know I do, but it's just to meet with him. I would never ask you to do this unless it was important." Ainsley knew that of course. Of all of her friends when she was younger, Jocelyn Paley was the one who knew about every Hellish detail of Ainsley's years long struggle with Peter. She was incredibly aware of how Ainsley's anxiety was sure to shoot through the roof with any reminder of that time in her life, so it was no small favor to ask.

"No, I know. You're right, and it's fine." Ainsley gave her friend a smile and took a deep breath. "I'm assuming it's mostly because of –"

"The book. Yeah. I'm sure he wants to talk to someone who knew me before I came out as a kinky sex fiend…Fuck, what a nightmare."

Watching Jocelyn run her hands through her already messed blonde hair, Ainsley put one hand on her friend's shoulder in support.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a kinky sex fiend…and even if you were, I would totally beat up anyone who gave you shit for it." Jocelyn laughed and leaned into her. "I'm serious! Just say the word, and I will go kick your asshole lawyer in the nuts."

Jocelyn responded with a wide grin but shook her head. "Just go tomorrow, and you decide. Is he as big a fucker as I think or am I being completely unreasonable? I'll defer to you for the nut kicking plan. Deal?" She held out her fist and Ainsley gave it a bump.

"Deal."

Both women grinned before lying back down in silence. After several minutes of watching the park goers in that same silence, Ainsley furrowed her brow and turned.

"Who is your lawyer anyway? I didn't know they had found another new ADA…"

"God I don't know. Something Something Asshole, maybe? I was too busy hating his face to bother with a name."

Ainsley rolled her eyes and turned away again. "Well I'll get his card for you tomorrow. You should probably know the name of the guy who's going to put that actual asshole Adam Cain in prison for you."

"Yeah, you remind me when this is all over, and I'll write the guy a goddamn thank you card. Deal part 2?" Joceyln's fist was in the air once more. Ainsley bumped it.

"Deal part 2."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Here we go! We get a little look into Ainsley's family life here, but we'll be seeing our favorite ADA again in the next few chapters :) Enjoy!**

* * *

The moment her father's face appeared on her laptop screen, Ainsley felt her whole body relax in a way that it hadn't since Jocelyn was attacked. His smile was enough to ignite her own as she ran a hand through her damp hair and gave a wave.

"Hey sweetie!"

Ainsley chuckled at how excited her dad was to hear from her and replied with her own hello as she tugged on the long sleeves of her flannel pajamas. She could see her dad eye them with a smirk. They were covered in crabs and stated angrily I'm not crabby, you're crabby. They had been a gag gift two Christmases ago.

"Hey Daddy." She turned her head slightly to check on her bedroom door. Seeing it was still closed tight, Ainsley assumed Joc was still napping. She wasn't too concerned about her temporary roommate waking up; Joc was understandably exhausted.

"You look beautiful, querida. Are you well?" Ainsley's grinned grew at the often-used endearment and she nodded.

"You know me," she stated softly. "Surviving." Ainsley watched as her dad's smile faltered. It was always strange to see him without the typical happy-go-lucky grin plastered on his face. Ainsley swallowed and bit her lip. She hadn't been calling to upset him, only to check in. Seeing all of those families earlier at the park had really pushed her father's face to the forefront of her mind.

Ever since her mother had died nine years previous, Marco had stepped into the role of a single father (a stepfather technically) with amazing grace and dedication. Ainsley knew she was lucky to have him in her life. It was moments like this, however, that made her wish he wasn't so damn observant and aware of every one of her emotional tells.

After what felt like an eternity of being appraised, Ainsley released a sigh and rolled her eyes. "What Dad?"

"I don't know you tell me."

Ainsley clenched her teeth while hesitating. She could hear his accent thickening by the word as it always did when he was upset or stressed. If he could sense her own state of mind, of course his would begin to reflect it.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel like he needed to fly to New York for her.

"Ainsley May, what's going on? This video picture is shit, so you can't see it, but please know my hair is greying as I wait for you to come clean."

Feeling her eyes begin to prickle at the edges, Ainsley took a deep, steadying breath and looked away. "I'm fine Daddy, honest…" God she really hated how infantile she sounded. Her father brought that out in her. Jesus, even before her mother married Marco when Ainsley was seven, she was calling him daddy. He loved it though, so it stuck (though only on occasions when Ainsley was particularly upset. Obviously, this constituted as one such occasion.

"Algo esta mal..." he stated, his brow furrowed in concern.

Ainsley only shook her head. She knew it was useless. Already the prickling in her eyes was turning to tears that had started trickling down her cheeks.

"Habla conmigo…talk to me Sweetie."

Ainsley gripped a chunk of her thick hair in one hand, pulled her head down and took another breath. "It's not me, I swear…it's just. You remember Jocelyn Paley?"

"Jocelyn? From when you were kids…blonde hair and had that weird ass horse backpack?" Ainsley snorted; she had completely forgotten about that obsession.

"Ahi ella esta! My girl." He grinned at the flicker of humor in Ainsley's eyes and then pushed forward. "What about her, querida?"

"She's here in New York. It was for a book signing."

"She wrote a book? Good for her; what's the problem? Es mierda? It's shit, isn't it and you don't know what to tell her?"

Ainsley shook her head at the assumption. "Dad have you heard of "Twenty-Five Acts?"

Marco rolled his eyes and groaned. "She didn't…"

She shrugged. "But she did…wait have you read it?"

"Ellen showed me a couple passages in the staffroom…fuck." He ran a hand through his own thick head of hair. Ainsley caught a glimpse of some of the grey he had mentioned earlier and released a small smile. She had never realized her own habit of messing with her hair under stress must have come from him. It was oddly comforting.

Her dad was still muttering under his breath in Spanish as Ainsley pushed forward. "Dad, she was attacked." She nearly though the screen had frozen for how still he became, but then he was looking her straight in the eyes and Ainsley felt herself choking up once more.

"She was attacked," she repeated. "Daddy, someone raped Jocelyn."

It was the first time, Ainsley had actually said the words aloud. It made the whole thing so much more real. There was no going back for anyone. Joc was always going to be that one author who got raped. Ainsley was always going to be the friend of the author who got raped…the friend who maybe could have stopped it. Suddenly tears were flowing as the guilt hit her and hit her hard. She could have stopped it.

"Ainsley May…baby, look at me." Hardly anyone used her full name. She guessed most people though May was her middle name. But whenever someone did use it, usually it was her father, Ainsley took notice.

"How is she?" He was very still, clearly trying to keep calm in order to keep his daughter from the edge of complete hysteria.

"Shit I don't even know," Ainsley sobbed, one hand over her mouth. That last thing she wanted was for Joc to come out of the bedroom to Ainsley gabbing to her dad.

"Liv thinks she's in shock I guess. I just – God, I don't know what to do. I'm supposed to speak to her lawyer tomorrow, because I was the first one she came to and called the police. I don't want to talk to him. I don't like lawyers, you know I don't like them. He's going to ask me a bunch of stupid questions that aren't his business and what if I have to take the stand? I'll have to sit there in front of everyone all over again and oh my God. Daddy, my name will be in the paper, so what if Peter finds me again? I don't want to move, but he'll make me. I know it.

"And it's all my fault! I should have asked her to stay with me, but I let her go. Jesus, I told her to have fun and look what he did. I let her go and he hurt her…how can she even stand to look at me?"

Ainsley paused and then turned to look at her father. She could see the anguish in his gaze, clearly, he was hurting for her. "It's my fault…" she repeated softly.

Ainsley gazed down at her slender hands in disgust as if the guilt was something tangible she could simply wash away. She refused to look at her father, convinced he would feel the same shame for her inaction as she did – blame her for what happened to one of her oldest friends.

"Mi amor." Ainsley shook her head at the sound of her father's soft voice. Normally his deep timbre was the most comforting sound in the world. Now it just made her sick with her own failures.

She heard him sigh. "Mirame…"

Obediently, Ainsley looked up from her hands.

"Listen to me and believe me when I tell you this. Do you understand?"

Ainsley nodded, but her father shook his head.

"I'm asking if you understand me?"

She looked away and out her window. The sun was setting. She loved how the sun reflected off of the buildings and turned the light within her apartment a very subtle golden color. It made everything seem a bit more peaceful.

She turned back toward her father and nodded again. "Yeah, I understand you."

Her father nodded firmly and took a breath. "To start…this is absolutely, unconditionally, and 100% not your fault. Now pay attention as I tell you why…"


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Thank you to all those who have reviewed thus far; it really makes me feel good :) This chapter is kind of short, but in the NEXT one we get back to our favorite ADA!**

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Ainsley couldn't help but shiver at the sight of the brownstone which seemed to loom over her. It was, of course, very different from the courthouse back home where she had worked with the lawyers and police when going up against Peter…all three times. That had been a small unassuming building at the other side of town. This was something far more impressive – well impressive and mildly terrifying. She couldn't help but wonder why a bunch of prosecution lawyers needed such a big building and to themselves as well.

Rationally, she knew there was nothing of which she needed to be afraid, but the idea of being questioned by some stranger here was giving her a headache. The dryness of her mouth had reached epic proportions and she could have killed someone for a glass of water.

Ainsley jumped when Amanda squeezed her shoulder and gave her a bit of a side hug for which Ainsley could have cried. She knew Amanda Rollins was not one for excessive emotional comfort. Liv had always been a great hugger; Jon, too, was incredibly supportive and affectionate.

"Sweetie, you're going to be fine, I promise," the detective assured her tucking a strand of red behind one of Ainsley's ears. "It's just a couple of questions about Jocelyn's disclosure. Just tell Barba exactly what you told Liv and me at the hospital – the truth. That's all he wants. He's a good lawyer, someone we're lucky to have on Jocelyn's side, okay?"

Ainsley nodded slowly and then froze. That name…how did she know that name? She gave Amanda a confused look. "Barba…have I met him?"

Amanda shrugged and gave a slight frown, "I don't know why you would. He just transferred from Brooklyn, I guess. Spend much time there?"

Ainsley shook her head. "No, not really…" She was ready to let her suspicions go when suddenly a thought burst into her mind, and she immediately started digging through her purse, cursing under her breath.

"What's wrong?" Amanda asked, sensing the panic in her already nervous friend. Ainsley only continued to dig, rummaging past old receipts, hair binders, and whatever other garbage she managed to come across before finally pulling out a small business card. She groaned.

"Shit," she muttered, reading the words. Of course it would be him. Why wouldn't it be?

"Ainsley, talk to me; what is it?" Ainsley looked to the blonde again, a look of defeated resignation lining her face.

"It's him…" she mumbled.

"Who's him? What are you talking about?"

"Him!" Ainsley cried. "The guy…you know, the guy – Jocelyn's asshole lawyer," she hissed grasping Amanda's arm.

"Hey, oww…" Amanda pried apart Ainsley's grip and laughed. "I don't know if I'd call him an asshole…"

Ainsley released a nearly inaudible whimper and ran both hands through her hair, tangling the fingers of one hand deep. She struggled for a few moments, before freeing herself and pulling Amanda over to a nearby bench. "No, Amanda…he's that lawyer."

"What lawyer?" Amanda shook her head. "You're making no sense, sweetie."

Ainsley wondered how Amanda was not getting it. She clenched her jaw and leaned in closer, as if proximity would make her friend understand. Ainsley took a deep breath and unclenched her jaw.

"Jocelyn's lawyer," she began slowly. "The one we're meeting today…"

"Yes?"

"He's the same fuck all lawyer who I assaulted with scalding hot coffee the other day."

Both women sat silently for a few moments when Ainsley noticed Amanda's shoulders start to shake. At first, she was confused. Was she seizing up? When Amanda erupted with laughter, however, Ainsley turned bright red and gave the detective next to her a hard shove.

"Stop laughing!" she cried. "This is not a laughing matter!"

"Barba is "Suit Guy?"" Amanda doubled over as she continued to laugh, much to Ainsley's own mortification.

"Don't you dare call him that, Jesus, why did I tell you that?" Ainsley leaned forward to rest her head in her hands, a curtain of red hair blanketing her face. "Un-freaking-believable…"

"Oh my God, Ainsley, that is hilarious!" Ainsley wondered how much attention Amanda's hooting and hollering was attracting, but still she refused to leave the safety of her hair blanket. "Oh come on, honey," Amanda urged. "It's fine. Don't freak out on me."

Ainsley peaked up and glared as Amanda continued to chuckle lightly. She would wait until the blonde could control herself. "You done?" she finally asked, not altogether sure Amanda was finished mocking her.

"Yeah yeah, I'm good, honest." Amanda held up one hand with a smirk. "Scout's honor."

Ainsley scoffed. "Yeah, as if you were a scout…" Amanda merely gave her a small shove.

"Seriously, sweetie. It's okay. Anyway, you said he wanted you to stop by. We're killing two birds with one stone here." It was true, Ainsley thought. He had said it was fine for her to pop in to pay him back. What she hadn't confided to Amanda, though, was "Suit Guy's" offer to take her to lunch.

Oh God, Jocelyn's asshole lawyer (because Joc was pretty insistent on his asshole status…hoes before bros and all that) had asked her out. Or had he? Suddenly, she wondered if that was actually what happened. He had mentioned lunch, but was that more of a "Hey, it's lunch time and we just happen to be in the same vicinity, so let's eat also in the same vicinity" or an actual "Hey, you are not appallingly ugly, so why don't we go out of our way to eat together intentionally and potentially meet again in the near future?"

Either way, the idea of facing him now and – oh God, him interrogating her! – was mortifying. Ainsley could have died right then and there. If she had a dollar for every time she wanted to die in the past week, she'd have…well she would have three dollars. Okay, it wasn't a lot, but really! No one should want to die of embarrassment three times in one week!

"Ainsley sweetie?" Ainsley turned toward Amanda, a look of total despair on her face. "Oh Honey, you've got to pull yourself together! It's going to be fine, I promise." Ainsley sighed as Amanda shifted her weight to offer up another hug.

Two in one day, Ainsley thought. It had to be a record.

"I'll be with you the whole time, okay?"

Ainsley nodded and allowed Amanda to pull her to her feet. The two women linked arms as the detective all but dragged her up the steps of the still looming DA building. Ainsley sighed and gave Amanda one more pleading look which was promptly ignored.

Fuck.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Hey everyone; I'm back. I'm sorry it's been so long. Anyone ever go through a major depressive episode? It's crazy how that can fuck up so many aspects of your life - even something as inane as writing one freaking chapter. I'm doing much better now and I'm nearly done with the next chapter of this. I hope you like this one; let me know!**

* * *

Rafael Barba was not having a great day. Yesterday's meeting with Jocelyn Paley had hardly gone the way he had wanted. While he could tell she wasn't being combative on purpose, it didn't change the fact that she wasn't going to make this terribly easy for him. Between her book, the defendant, and how the jury was sure to perceive them both, Rafael wasn't entirely convinced this was a case he could win…at least not as easily as he would like to.

The detectives at least were confident, if a not a little more idealist than he was used to in his previous district. He had high hopes he could develop a strong working relationship with each of the members of Harris' team – for as long as Harris had the team anyway. He didn't expect Harris to remain much longer. It was only a matter of time before 1PP cleared Cragen and reinstated him as Head of Manhatten SVU.

Rafael leaned back in his chair as he continued to look over Jocelyn's files. The pictures were startling, no doubt, but Jesus…Cain had used her book as a damn manual for his attack. Convincing the jury that the book saying yes has no bearing in real life consent was going to be a nightmare on its own.

With a sigh, he straightened his tie despite knowing that it did not actually require straightening. Hopefuly Jocelyn's outcry witness would work out well. She would need every bit of help she could get. Considering the witness had apparently known Jocelyn since childhood as well, was an added bonus. It would be a huge help to have someone confirm Jocelyn was an average, down to Earth kind of woman who just happened to write fiction novels about kinky sex.

God, what a mess…

Hearing a knock on his door, Rafael looked up and smiled at Carmen. He would never admit it, but he had been thrilled when she agreed to make the transfer with him over to Manhatten.

"Are they here?" he asked, standing up and buttoning his jacket.

"Yes Sir."

"Send them in, thank you Carmen." He watched as Carmen stepped to the side to allow Rollins and his witness into his office. Raising one eyebrow, Rafael wondered why it looked as though the detective was practically dragging the woman behind her through the doorway. But as soon as the second woman looked up, he recognized that blush, that mass of red hair, and the embarrassed smile shooting his way.

"Ms. Reyes?" Rafael stepped forward, more than a little confused. Then guilt washed over him. He had told her to stop in and they would get lunch, yet there was no way he could leave now – not with him waiting on Jocelyn's witness. Perhaps Ms. Reyes – Ainsley, he told himself – would take a raincheck. He didn't want to miss out on getting together.

He had gotten such a kick out of their first meeting and how frazzled she had been. He wondered if that was how she always acted or if it was just him Rafael found himself thinking it would be preferable if that was her reaction toward him alone. Flustered, excitable, sweet. Though he highly doubted anything would come of his interest in her as Ainsley had to have been at the very least fifteen years his junior. He could just picture the jokes now…ADA with the Special Victims Unit turns cradle robber.

He shook himself from his thoughts as Ainsley gave him a small wave.

"Mr. Barba, fancy seeing you here," she replied, running one hand through her thick waves. He couldn't help but wonder if it was a nervous habit of hers. She had done the same motion several times when he had tried calming her in the Starbucks when they had first met and again at her own, rather impressive, bakery.

Rafael glanced at Rollins who had the most infuriating, shit eating grin plastered on her face. "Wait…"

"Yup," Rollins laughed.

"You mean this…" Rafael motioned toward Ainsley, who once more was turning beat red. Another nervous habit.

"Uh-huh." He was getting ready to shake Rollins for how irritating she was being.

"Well…" Rafael paused and took a step forward and held out his hand. "It's nice to see you again, Ms. Reyes, though I am sorry about the circumstances."

Ainsley nodded and shook his hand. "Yeah, uh sorry…I didn't realize you were Joc's lawyer."

Rafael chuckled and shrugged. "And I didn't know you were her friend and my witness." He watched as she bit into her lip and gave a resigned sigh.

"Come let's sit…Rollins, how are you?" he asked, suddenly remembering that he and Ainsley were hardly alone.

"Oh, I'm just peachy," she chuckled, leading Ainsley to one of the large armchairs away from his desk. He guessed she must be nervous. She shouldn't be though, this was just a simple conversation…about her friend…who was raped. Jesus…

"Can I have Carmen get you something to drink?" he asked, motioning to the now closed door. "Water? Coffee? I think we have some tea if you'd prefer." Both women shook their heads, so Rafael moved to sit a cross from them, unbuttoning his jacket once more.

"Well, again Ms. Reyes, it is nice to see you again. Are you well?" he asked. He wanted to put her at ease. It was odd; not even Jocelyn had seemed this on edge with him and she was the one around whom the case would revolve.

Ainsley took a breath and smiled, one side of her mouth raised slightly higher than the other. "Yeah I'm okay…a little nervous." She gave a slight laugh and shook her head. This wasn't exactly how I planned on coming to see you."

"So you did plan on coming; good to know." Rafael gave a smirk and Rollins cleared her throat. He could see her roll her eyes.

"But honestly, there's no need to be worry here. I just need to ask some questions about your relationship with Ms. Paley, how well you know her, as well as your version of her disclosure to you."

Ainsley nodded. He pulled his file onto his lap and grabbed a pen from inside his suit. Offering up a reassuring smile, Rafael leaned forward a bit toward Ainsley.

"As I understand it, she spoke to you less than an hour after the attack?"

"Uh yeah. She came right over afterwards."

"And what time was that?"

"Just before two in the morning."

"Could you describe the state of Ms. Paley?"

Ainsley nodded and closed her eyes tightly. Rafael looked on while Rollins reached over to hold her hand and Rafael started to wonder what kind of relationship Ainsley had with the SVU team.

"At first, I just thought she had had a bad time with Adam; maybe he was a dick or something. But when she came in, I could see she had been crying – her eyes were all red and puffy. She had a really big red stripe around her neck as if she had been choked or something. Her shirt and skirt were ripped a bit too."

Rafel nodded as he took his notes and then looked up again at the woman across from him. She had gone a bit pale.

"Okay and the disclosure itself," he continued softly. He could see Rollins'confused stare from the corner of his eye but ignored it. "Did you ask if she had been raped or did she bring it up?"

"Is that something that matters?" she asked, glancing over to the detective. Rafael and Rollins exchanged looks.

"Yeah Sweetie," Rollins explained, rubbing her hand. "If you brought it up, it could be argued Jocelyn was just following your lead.

Ainsley nodded and then shook her head. "No, I only asked her what happened."

"You're sure?" Rafael didn't need any more holes in his case.

"Absolutely," Ainsley replied, frim in her answer. "I asked her what happened and she said he wouldn't stop. I asked her who wouldn't stop. I mean, I figured she was talking about Adam Cain since she had told me she would be going out with him after the taping, but I wanted to make sure."

"That's real good, Ainsley," Rollins assured her. "What happened next?"

"Yeah, she – Jocelyn, I mean – she just said she was scared and that he kept pulling something tighter. I didn't know what she meant so I told her she was safe with me and asked her again who had hurt her."

Rafael could feel her gaze as she waited for him to catch up in his notetaking. He smiled at her to show she could continue.

"That's when she said Cain had hurt her. After that I said I was going to take her to the hospital; she was really confused. I guess she hadn't really looked in the mirror or seen her neck, but she ended up agreeing to go.

"So you left?" he asked.

"Yeah. After I got her a coat…when she stood up, there was some blood on the couch where she was sitting." At that, Ainsley looked ready to cry. Barba looked to Rollins while she composed herself.

"Did CSU get the cushion?" he asked softly. Rollins only nodded. Thank God, he thought to himself. The fact that she had been so injured she bled through her clothing would only strengthen his case as callous as that sounded. He didn't feel the need to share that with Ainsley.

"Okay and was anything said on the way to the hospital?" he asked her once he saw she had calmed down a bit.

Ainsley shook her head. "She stayed pretty quiet. When we got there, I said I wanted to call Olivia."

"Benson?" Ainsley nodded. How well did she know the SVU? "Rollins, we'll need to talk later."

"Yeah," the detective agreed with a sigh. Rafael could only hope that Ainsley's apparent friendship with the team wouldn't be seen as bias.

"Continue please, Ms. Reyes," he urged.

"Joc didn't want me to call them, but I did anyway. I figured they knew what to say more than me…they did."

"And that's when Liv and I came in; we already gave you our statements," Rollins added, turning away from Ainsley and facing Rafael.

"Yes. Well from what I'm hearing, which is very much in line with what Ms. Paley told me yesterday, you did everything just right, Ms. Reyes. Your testimony about the disclosure will be very helpful for the case, assuming your willing to take the stand?" Rafael would have expected Ainsley to immediately agree, but she paused. This was concerning.

He watched as she looked toward the ceiling and closed her eyes. Licking her lips and swallowing, Ainsley took a deep breath before once more making eye contact with Rafael. Rollins squeezed the redhead's knee as Ainsley blinked rapidly. Finally she clenched her teeth and took another breath, giving a firm nod.

"Absolutely."

"Excellent," Rafael replied with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "In that case, let's talk about your relationship with Ms. Paley. Tell me how the two of you met."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Hi hi hi! I'm alive and sorry! Here you go! Sorry!**

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Ainsley was utterly exhausted. Forty-five minutes spent talking about your childhood friend who had just been raped would do that to a girl, she supposed. She leaned forward in the unexpectedly comfortable armchair she had been led to earlier and stretched down to touch her toes. Maybe after Rollins and Mr. Barba returned from whatever little chat they were having about her, she would call the shop and make up an excuse to not go into work. Carrie knew Ainsley was meeting with a lawyer today; she wouldn't be too surprised if Ainsley bailed.

She looked over her shoulder to the door and wondered what Rollins and Mr. Barba were speaking about. Whatever it was, she wished they would hurry up. She just wanted to leave and get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible. Originally, Ainsley wasn't even sure she would have to testify, that maybe her little talk today would be enough. It was pretty clear now, however, that that wouldn't be the case.

The whole thing was mortifying.

She had actually really liked the lawyer too, and despite how perfectly inept she had been upon their first meeting, he hadn't seemed utterly disgusted by her. Of course, it would change now. He was going to question her on the stand. She was going to have to answer personal questions about her friend in front of people. She shuddered; he was going to allow the defense lawyer to talk to her in, probably, a really shitty way. God, she hated defense lawyers. Peter's had always been huge jerks – talking about her like she sought Peter out, rather than the other way around. As if a twelve-year-old had the wherewithal to go after a nineteen-year-old. What a joke…

Hearing the sound of a door opening behind her, Ainsley stood up from her seat and frowned in confusion.

"Rollins got a call," the slightly older lawyer explained, closing the door behind him. There was another thing beyond the whole lawyer thing. Ainsley wasn't good with ages, but he had to be at least fifteen years her senior. She'd be a goddamn liar if she said the few silver hairs scattered through his otherwise jet-black hair weren't more than a little appealing. That being said, she probably looked like a freaking toddler to him. After all, whenever Ainsley looked at Beth or Bennett, she felt a thousand years old. And that was less than ten years difference.

"Ms. Reyes?"

Ainsley shook herself from her thoughts and gave a small smile. "Of course, no worries." The two stood silently for a few moments before both started speaking at once.

"I suppose I'll –"

"Shall we –"

Ainsley flushed, while Mr. Barba chuckled.

"Go ahead," she urged him. Just let him kick her out and move on.

"Right," he smirked. Not for the first time she found herself wondering how such an annoying type of smile could be so endearing on the lawyer before her. "Well if you're ready to take me up on my lunch offer, there's a great Italian place around the corner." Ainsley blinked in confusion as he picked up her coat from the back of her chair and held it out.

"Are – are you serious?" she asked numbly.

Mr. Barba gave her a curious smile. "Unless you've changed your mind…you did mention you were planning on coming by at some point." He gave her coat a small shake. "But really, it's the best pesto I've had since my transfer. It would be a shame to miss out," he teased.

"No, I mean, yeah I'm sure it's great…it's just –" Ainsley paused and gave her shoulders an awkward shrug. How was he being so nonchalant about everything?

Mr. Barba sighed and offered Ainsley an understanding look before stepping behind her and helping her into her coat. Slowly, she allowed her arms to make their way into the sleeves before pulling her long hair out to lay down her back. She almost smiled, feeling Mr. Barba's own hands smooth her hair for her.

"It's just that we just spent nearly an hour as lawyer and witness?" he clarified.

Ainsley snorted and nodded her head, turning to face him. "Well yes, Mr. Barba…isn't it – I don't know weird? Or illegal or something?" She figured there had to be some sort of ethical barrier in play here. Then again, she baked for a living…what did she know? But still! They had just been discussing the sex life of one of her oldest friends. How did that not make things weird?

Mr. Barba, however only shook his head, a smile on his face. He really did have a lovely face…Jesus, Ainsley could punch herself. Could she look at him without thinking about how attractive he was for two damn seconds? Luckily, he didn't seem too concerned with her one-track mind. Or maybe she was just better at hiding her pathetic pining than she initially believed?

"That meeting ended. All discussion of the case has also ended – your participation and otherwise. And I hope that you referring to me as _Mr. Barba_ has ended as well…at least until we have to meet again for the case. Because I really am quite hungry at the moment, and if we leave now, we'll beat the lunch rush. How does that sound, _Ainsley_?"

She could feel her face grow warm as he continued to smile, waiting for her reply. Finally, she nodded at him and offered up what was probably her first genuine smile since this whole fiasco first began.

"That actually sounds great," she agreed, releasing a breath and tucking a strand of red behind one ear and reaching for her purse.

"Excellent!"

Ainsley watched as Mr. Barba – Rafael, she corrected herself – took his own coat from a closet and returned to her side. After adjusting a scarf around his neck and pulling on a pair of gloves, he placed one hand gently on Ainsley's lower back and guided her toward the exit. He pulled open the door and shot her a wink.

"Shall we?"

"We shall," Ainsley giggled. Jesus Christ…giggling? What was she? Fourteen? Ainsley tried to calm herself as Rafael led her down the stairs and into the chilly air. She could only pray that he was mentally balanced enough for the two of them to carry an actual conversation. Where Ainsley's head was currently, she doubted she would be much use in any real fashion.

* * *

Well when you're right, you're right. Ainsley couldn't help but release a small moan as she put another large forkful of pasta into her mouth. She was inhaling the meal before her, much to her own disgust. But damn…Rafael hadn't been exaggerating. This was amazing. After risking a glance at the lawyer himself as she swallowed her ridiculous bite of Pesto Shrimp Pasta, Ainsley immediately regretted her decision.

Rafael was looking over his own meal at her with an amused grin, seemingly on the edge of laughter. Ainsley offered up her own embarrassed smile in return, arching her eyebrows, almost daring him to comment on her eating habits.

She swallowed the mouthful of pasta she had gorged herself with and gave a small laugh. "God, I didn't know I was so hungry," she explained while setting her fork down beside her plate. Rafael only grinned wider and held up both hands.

"Hey, that's why we're here. May I suggest slowing down? Enjoy it, take your time…or else I may start to think you're in a rush to get away from me," he replied before shooting her a quick wink.

Ainsley rolled her eyes and quirked one side of her mouth up in amusement.

"Damn you caught me," she joked. "Although maybe I'm using you for your amazing restaurant recommendations."

"Ah, I knew there was something!" he chuckled, taking a bite of his own meal. Ainsley watched as he gracefully patted the corner of his mouth with his napkin before motioning the waiter over. Before she had the chance to react, both wine glasses were filled.

"It's only 12.30, you realize?" she commented. He only took a another sip from his glass, a smirk on his face. The two continued to eat in what Ainsley thought was remarkably comfortable silence. After a few minutes however, Rafael must have felt a little more conversation was in order. Ainsley, once more, felt relieved he was taking charge of their interactions as she was still reeling from the chaos and stress of the day so far. On the other hand, maybe this wouldn't be her ideal topic of conversation after all.

"So you and Rollins know each other pretty well then?"

Ainsley froze, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth. Was this turning into a whole new interrogation? Was this lunch date (if it was a date…it was, wasn't it?) turning into some sort of undercover op to lull her into a false sense of security? Ainsley barely had time to consider her next words, when Rafael rushed to reassure her.

"It's just a question, Ainsley, nothing meant by it."

She smiled and gave a small nod while bringing her fork once more to her mouth. Hopefully he wasn't bullshitting her.

"Well, I knew Olivia before Amanda.," Ainsley explained, covering her mouth to keep her chewing in check. After swallowing, she continued. "She's the one who kind of introduced me to everyone. They're a really good group, fyi. I think you'll like working with them."

"It's not really about liking though, is it? We need to work together, and I need to trust they know how to do their jobs, and of course, they'll need to trust me to do the same. It's always hard introducing a new factor into an already established environment."

Ainsley nodded. "Oh absolutely," she agreed. "But honestly, they're great. I hope everything goes the way you're hoping, and even if it doesn't…maybe you won't book it out of here and back to Brooklyn?" She couldn't help but roll her eyes and grin as Rafael's smirk once more lit up his face.

"Don't want to see me go?"

Ainsley tossed her napkin his way and adjusted her hair over one shoulder. "Please," she laughed. "Maybe after spending most of my meals eating pizza and leftover Thai, I like the idea of having someone to give me food recommendations."

"Mhmm, I'm sure that's it," the lawyer replied, folding Ainsley's napkin and setting it before her. Ainsley groaned at the simplistic fold before her

"Oh come on, a pyramid fold? Really?" Ainsley grabbed for the upright, triangular shaped napkin setting and raised one unimpressed brow. While the pyramid may have been a classic, it was also the easiest and most cliché of napkin folds. And after one particularly gruesome event where she and Beth had to punch out five hundred of them in two hours, Ainsley decided she had seen enough of them to last the rest of her life.

"Oh come on, that's pretty good, if I don't say so myself," Rafael protested.

"Philistine," Ainsley scoffed, a small smile lining her mouth. Rafael shook his head with a grin as she unfolded the napkin and started reshaping it under his steady gaze.

"Don't you think that's a little harsh? I'm a lawyer, not a napkin…master."

"Hey you brought this on, Mr. Hot-Shot Lawyer – trying to impress a girl who bakes and caters for a living. I've been folding napkins professionally for over a decade…you're in my domain now," she proclaimed, hands working skillfully on their task. Ainsley could feel Rafael watching her and willed herself to keep from blushing. She figured she was failing spectacularly, but she remained focused on her task.

"There!"

With careful fingers and a proud smile, Ainsley carefully placed the skillfully folded water lily between the two of them. "Ta-da!"

She watched as Rafael gently lifted the napkin and gave an impressed nod. "Okay…I'll admit, that's pretty fantastic."

Ainsley nodded. "These take me awhile. You should see Kimmi go at it – one of my employees" she clarified quickly. "She only moved here for school like two years ago – spent the first nineteen years of her life in Japan. She could have busted like five of these suckers in the time it took me to do the one." If Rafael thought it weird for her to brag about an employee, he didn't show it, for which Ainsley was grateful. She adored her girls.

"You must run a pretty tight ship?"

Ainsley shrugged in response. "I don't know – I mean they know my expectations; I give a lot of leeway with scheduling and time off – artistry too. No one's taken advantage yet," she smiled brightly.

"Well, I'm sure you should be very proud. From what I saw, I mean," he said, returning her smile.

Pleased with his assessment, Ainsley allowed the conversation to turn to other topics, happy to learn more about Rafael's work and answer his questions about her interests as well. By the time, they finished lunch (and dessert at his insistance) Ainsley was already practically gone on the older lawyer. It was almost embarrassing how much she was 1enjoying his company after only a couple of meetings. It didn't escape her mind, however, their mutual connectional involving Jocelyn. She would be lying if that fact didn't sour the outing slightly.

"Ainsley?" Her head shot up as Rafael worked to get her attention.

"Sorry!" she replied, shaking her hand and tucking a wisp of hair behind one ear.

"Not a problem, I was just saying that it's probably time to head out." Ainsley started to protest as he signed for the bill that must have come while she had been lost in her thoughts.

"My treat," he assured her. "Consider it payback for the free muffin from your bakery."

Ainsley gave him a disbelieving look. "That was a three-dollar banana nut muffin," she argued. "This is what…how much?"

"Honestly, Ainsley," he laughed, standing and moving to her side to pull out her chair. "I invited you. This is how lunch works. You invite me somewhere and you can pay."

Ainsley pursed her lips and sighed. "I'm going to hold you to that," she promised, allowing him to help her into her coat once more. As she adjusted the hat on her head, she nearly missed his response.

"I hope so.

* * *

After lunch, booking a wedding event, and finally succeeding in teaching Beth and Lettie how to make a proper swiss roll _without_ any cracks, it had been shaping up to be one of those elusive perfect days. Ainsley was ready to settle in for an evening of reading and television. Of course, however and as per usual, the universe had other plans.

Ainsley frowned as she walked though her front door and felt something that wasn't hardwood flooring beneath her feet. There before her lay a plain brown envelope. She froze, immediately knowing from whom it had come. After years of the same envelope appearing at her home, at school, and even once at her favorite bookstore, it was hardly an unfamiliar sight.

Slowly, Ainsley bent down and picked up the envelope, jaw clenched. It took every bit of strength within her not to start sobbing at the sight of the photographs within. There in her hand had to be at least a dozen pictures of her from lunch. There she was laughing, there playing with her hair, there was even a closeup of her hand brushing Rafael's as she took the water lily napkin from him.

Taking a deep breath, Ainsley walked calmly to her kitchen and placed the pictures on the counter top. Without a second thought, she pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Amanda?" she greeted, her voice shaking. "Hey – I'm sorry to call so late, but…something's happened." She paused and nodded, despite knowing Rollins couldn't actually see her. "Yeah, I need you. He's back."


End file.
